


Help Me Say Goodbye

by acrazyobsession



Category: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: Episode Tag, Episode: s01e13 King Memses' Curse, F/M, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Missing Scenes, Whumptober 2019, numb
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-29
Updated: 2019-10-29
Packaged: 2021-01-13 17:35:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21190112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/acrazyobsession/pseuds/acrazyobsession
Summary: There has always been this little voice in the back of her mind that said Janey could still be alive. When this little ray of hope is destroyed at the sight of the small body in the grave, what will Phryne hold onto now?





	Help Me Say Goodbye

**Author's Note:**

> MFMM Whumptober 2019 Prompt "Numb"
> 
> Thank you **LeChatNoir1918** and **aurora_australis** for reading this over and giving me the confidence to post it.

The festivities had long since ended, and the last remnants of the party had been cleared away by Mr. Butler and Dot. Phryne sat on the edge of the lounge in the parlour, a faraway look in her eyes as she absently twirled the empty glass in her hands. Shoes discarded on the floor. Wrap thrown over a chair. Another successful party at Wardlow concluded. And now she sat alone. She hadn’t realized how much she had needed her small family all around her tonight until they were gone.

____

_“Janey died instead of me.” Her chest tightened. Her breathing uneven. There wasn’t much in her life that she regretted or felt guilty about. But Janey was the one thing that she had been unable to shake. How could she with Foyle never having admitted to her abduction and herself never receiving closure. Until now._

_“So you owe it to her to keep living to the hilt.” His gaze was filled with kindness and understanding. “Not that I noticed you wasting a moment,” he admitted with a twinkle in his eyes and his lips turned up ever so slightly._

_There was something about the way he said it. It wasn’t judgmental or accusatory. It was accepting and supportive. She shifted her own gaze up and away from his to prevent the tears from coming. Her party was beckoning; she couldn’t cry._

_The upbeat music could be heard in the parlour, but all she wanted to do was sit here in the silence with him. It was comforting. But Jack was right. She needed to keep living to the hilt, and tonight that meant a birthday party. She knew this was something that they needed. They had all been touched in some way by Foyle’s plans, and they deserved to enjoy the evening. She would have fun tonight and deal with everything else later._

_Her red lips forced a smile and her eyes turned to meet his. She straightened in her chair, took a deep breath through her nose, and reached for his hand. The charge she felt at his touch rippled over her whole body and she knew she could get through this evening if he were there. He gave her strength._

_“Help me to celebrate?” A sparkle lit up in her eyes when he nodded._

____

She had thoroughly enjoyed the evening and the company of her family. She had come too close to losing them in the last few days. But now, as she sat in the silence again, it felt different. The comfort she had felt earlier was gone. Without Jack’s calming presence, it was overwhelming. Images flashed before her of her family collapsed on the floor, of Jane disheveled and scared, and Jack with blood oozing from his head. She had to remind herself that they were all safe now.

But that wasn’t the end of the images. She forced her eyes closed against the flashes of the little body in the ground. All that had been left was a tiny skeleton. And now that was the way she would remember her sister. She should have listened to Jack when he tried to convince her not to go.

Her eyes flew open and she set down the glass. Jack. Why, suddenly, did she put so much stock in what Jack Robinson thought? She had been making decisions for herself for a long while now. She pushed herself up off the lounge and walked over to the gramophone. All she needed was a little music.

“Actually, some sleep wouldn’t hurt either,” she scolded herself. Her own voice broke the silence. But sleep would mean quiet, and right now she needed noise.

The music began to play. With both hands on the stand, she closed her eyes and tried to absorb the gaiety of the tune, hoping it would push away the sadness that had crept into her thoughts. But it was too strong to be pushed aside by some music. Instead, it fought harder, and the images were replaced with a swell of emotions that shook her to her core. The terror of finding out that Foyle had escaped. The relief that he was dead. The shock that it was faked. The taunting with the candy apple and blue ribbon. Jane. Jack. The grave.

She gripped the sides of the stand. Fifteen years of sadness and uncertainty. But now she had finally found the answers. She hadn’t expected to feel happy, but she had expected some amount of relief. This was not relief, and it made her feel out of control.

____

_How she had even gotten to the clearing was a blur. The last 24 hours were all a blur really. The last thing she remembered was Jack telling her they had found the location. They had found the grove of weeping willows at the head of the river._

_She had been unable to respond._

_There was just a nod. He had tried to tell her she needed to stay home, but they both knew that was not going to happen. She needed to be there. She needed closure._

_Tears had filled her eyes, but did not fall. Now, standing here at the grave, they still did not fall._

_Phryne didn’t know how she felt. There were a lot of emotions swirling around, but nothing felt right. She couldn’t be sad because Janey wouldn’t have wanted that. She would want her to be happy. But how could she be happy right now? Standing at the foot of her sister’s grave where she had been hidden for all these years. She couldn’t be happy because Janey wasn’t coming back._

_Phryne had spent so many years just wanting to know where her sister was. But she hadn’t thought about what she would do after that. How she would feel after that. Finding her body didn’t bring her back. And for that she wanted to be angryーfuriousーat Foyle. But years of anger and hatred toward him had done nothing. It would not bring her Janey back. In the past year, she had done everything she could to make sure Foyle never got out of jail._

_She had done that, ensured he would hang for his crimes. But now what? So she stood there. Numb. It was better that way anyway._

____

Though she had enjoyed the party, it was merely a distraction from the emotions that had been floating near the surface for days. A way to push them aside for a little while longer. Maybe trick herself into believing she really was okay. She had closure. She now knew her sister was dead.

_Janey’s dead._

The sob caught her off guard and a hand flew to her mouth. She didn’t think she had ever said those words.

It was always that Janey had disappeared or been abducted. Though they all knew. It was just never said. She hadn’t realized that there had always been that little bit of hope that they would find her alive. It had prevented her from really grieving, because you can’t grieve for someone who isn’t dead.

Lashes suddenly heavy with unshed tears, one hand still gripping the gramophone stand, she fought the breakdown. The tears made her feel vulnerable and that was something that Phryne Fisher was not.

____

_The blue ribbon, interlaced in her fingers, was the only thing that felt real right now. She hadn’t been aware of Jack’s proximity beside her until his hand touched her shoulder. She should probably leave. But something inside of her needed more. With a long deep breath to steady herself, she stepped forward. But the sight of the small body was more than she could handle, and she sank to the ground. _

_Still no tears fell._

_The memories she had of her sister were always of them playing and laughing. She didn’t want to remember her like this. Covering her face with her hand. She desperately needed a tether or she feared she might fall into the blackness that she could feel just within her grasp. It would be dangerously easy to succumb to it and not have to feel any of this. But that wasn’t who she was. She wasn’t the type of person who just gave up. She fought and she fought hard. But this was something she found she couldn’t do alone. So she reached for him. Her tether. Without hesitation, he grabbed her hand and held it fast._

____

Still fighting against the emotions rising up in her chest, she suddenly realized that grief was not a sign of weakness. This fighting to suppress themーwhich she had thought to be a sign of strengthーwas only hurting her. There was a time to fight and a time to grieve. She had fought for so long and now she needed to let go.

What started off as a single sob had merely been the beginning of the dam breaking open. As soon as she gave herself permission to feel the grief, her legs buckled beneath her. No longer able to hold her up as exhaustion took over, she sank down to the floor much as she had at the grave.

She wept for her loss. The tears streamed from her eyes, and the sobs barely allowed her to catch her breath. She let it all go.

After several minutes, the initial wave of emotion subsided, and she worked to catch her breath. She wiped the tears away, along with the stray hair caught in her eyes. Licking her lips, she tasted the salty tears. Her whole body hurt and she was too tired to stand up. She settled on the floor, her back against the gramophone stand, her knees pulled up to her chest. The record continued to play its upbeat musicーa sharp contrast to the mess of tears and sniffling.

She closed her eyes and hugged her knees as another sob escaped her throat. At this point she was too tired to stop it. So many other memories and thoughts bombarded her, and she wept for it all. She wept for the life that her sister never got to live. She wept for the other girls who suffered the same fate. She wept for the guilt she felt that it should have been her. She wept for having put Jane through such a traumatic experience. She wept for how kind Jack had been despite kicking him.

The muffled sobs wracked against her chest and the tears continued to come. Is it ever going to stop?

____

_Jack watched as she navigated her way to the side of the grave; the facade slowly beginning to fall away as she removed her hat and sank to the ground. Quietly, he maneuvered his way around so that he stood behind her, the events of the night before still fresh in his mind. She had unsurprisingly gotten out of jail and put herself face to face with the enemy. _

_The movement of her shoulders as she began to shudder brought him back from his brief distraction. All he wanted to do at this moment was pull her into his arms and tell her everything was going to be alright. He admired her independent nature, but he also disliked it. He moved closer. Her body shifted away. For someone who so easily offered help to others, she was very bad at accepting it herself. Which was why her request to have him attend her cousin’s party and “remind her not to be afraid of shadows” had caught him off guard._

_There were many things about that night that had caught him off guard. Unfortunately, things had taken a dreadful turn that evening, and they had not been able to play out her little game. So her dismissal of his presence hurt. He was about to step back and give her space when she reached out to him. She did need himーwanted him near. He grabbed her hand without hesitation. He was here to help with the shadows, so if she needed a hand to hold, he was more than happy to be there for her._

____

Jack rushed into the parlour after Mr. Butler had let him in the front door. At first he didn’t see her, only the gramophone stand. But then the sparkling material caught his eye. Hesitantly, he walked around to see Phryne lying curled up on the floor, her dress splayed out around her. He took in the dried tears and mascara marks on her cheeks. Her nose was red, and her hair was splayed across the floor. Her bare feet peaked out from under her dress. One hand, palm up, reached out on the carpet to some invisible person. The other hand curled loosely under her chin. Her eyes were red and she was staring off blankly into space.

The parlour was silent except for her slow and steady intake of breath. His chest tightened and his breath caught at the sight of her lying on the floor. When he had received the call from Collins, he hadn’t even let the constable finish the sentence before he was out the door. He had been hesitant to leave after the party; he should have trusted his instincts.

He had guessed she was in a vulnerable state at the grave site, and even a little before the party. When she had reached across the table to grab his hand, he had been concerned. Sure, she would grab his arm as they walked, or sit on his desk and flirt, straighten his lapels, and just in general invade his personal space. But she hadn’t ever held his hand until yesterday at the grave. And then she had done it again. He had hidden his reaction from his face and simply squeezed her hand.

Standing over her body now, he was momentarily unsure of what to do. This was a side of Phryne he had never seen. He had seen her upset, frustrated, and anxious, but this was not what he was expecting. She usually paced and verbally assaulted anyone within hearing distance. So thisーthis fragile vulnerability was something he didn’t know how to handle.

He took off his hat and jacket and tossed them onto a chair, not even looking to see if they made it to their destination.

“Miss Fisher.” Even at a whisper, his voice seemed harsh in the silence. She had no physical response to his prompting. Her shoulders continued to rise in jagged motions as she breathed. All he could do was just be here for her.

He kneeled down by her curled up legs. “Phryne, I’m here.”

He leaned back, balancing himself on one hand as he moved his legs in front of himself to sit down. With knees bent, he rested his arms casually on them. It had been a draining couple of days for everyone. He should have pushed when she said she was fine and encouraged them all to go home and get some rest.

“Dot asked me to come. She was concerned about you. I guess Dr. MacMillan was out on a call, so Dot had Hugh call me.” He twisted his hands around each other, feeling a little awkward.

“You could have stopped me from leaving tonight. I would have stayed.”

She still didn’t answer, so in the end he just decided to talk to her. Not really about anything in particular. He just talked.

____

Phryne was in a fog as she watched Janey sit cross-legged playing with a homemade doll. This was how she wanted to remember her baby sister. Long braids with pretty ribbons tied into bows at the end, and a big smile on her face as she told the doll all about their grand adventures as pirates. Phryne didn’t want to leave this trick of the mind.

She didn’t know how long she had been lying here. Sometime after the tears would no longer come, she had lain down. Too tired and sore to stand and make her way upstairs. There had been no hash at her party and her last drink had been hours before, so she didn’t really know why she saw the vision of Janey in front of her. But no matter what mystic powers were playing tricks on her, she didn’t care. She just wanted to lie here - listening to her sister’s voice and watching her play.

But a different noise broke through the fog. It was a gentle rumble that ebbed and flowed in a calming way. She didn’t try to block it out, but instead let it wash over her. As it continued, the rumble became more defined. There was a familiar pattern that drew her attention away from pirate adventures. Focusing on it for a second, she recognized Jack’s voice.

_What is he doing here? _

She didn’t want to think about the real world right now. Her mind focused again on the image of Janey. But she couldn’t help being pulled back to Jack’s soothing voice. What is he talking about?

She knew that, like at the grave, if she reached out to him he would be there. But right now she didn’t know if she wanted to be found. This fog, though not real, was so much easier than the pain she had felt earlier. She had put the grief off for so long that when she had finally given in it almost consumed her. So she had retreated to this space and she just needed a little more time here.

But she was the Honorable Phryne Fisher, Lady Detective. She didn’t succumb to pressure and she didn’t fall for visions brought on by exhaustion. That was who she was. She had finally allowed herself to release the emotions, but she couldn’t allow herself to wallow in it.

As if realizing that their time would be ending soon, the vision of Janey stopped talking to her doll and turned her eyes to her sister. A huge smile graced her face. “You have to say goodbye now, Phryne.”

_Goodbye, Janey. I love you._

Jack’s voice became louder as she tried to focus her eyes. She found herself chuckling at the one-sided conversation he was having. It was endearing. The monologue stopped at the sound of her small laugh and his gaze shifted quickly to her eyes. When he made eye contact with her, a smile spread across his face.

“Hello.” He turned his body to face her and dropped one knee down to the floor to lean closer to her.

She shifted her own body, moving her hand up to pillow her head as she looked up at him.

“Hello.” Her voice was a little raspy.

Earlier that evening she had reached out to his folded hands and just stared at him. It was almost as if she had been drawing strength from his touch. There had been no pity in his face then, and there wasn’t any now. He was just hereーhere to help in any way he could. Well, maybe not in any way, but she would work on that.

She moved her still outstretched hand closer to his, palm up and wiggled her fingers.

He shifted his weight and slid his hand over hers and squeezed.

She squeezed back.

“Are you going to stay there all night?” His voice full of amusement.

He thought he was joking, and though it did make her chuckle, in all honesty, she didn’t know if she had the strength to get up. Her body felt like it weighed a ton. She took a deep breath.

“You might have to help me.” She tried to add her usual seductive tone, but by Jack’s reaction, she wasn’t sure she had pulled it off. He was now more concerned than amused. “I’ll be fine, Jack.” She squeezed his hand one more time before easing her fingers out of his hand so she could sit up. She was sure that she probably looked quite the sight. Surely there was mascara running down her face if the black marks on her fingers were any indication. Not to mention red eyes and disheveled hair. But the way he looked down at her was no different than his gaze hours before at the party. It did things to her heart and her stomach that she hadn’t felt in a long time. Or had she ever really felt it like this before? Their relationship was more than just physical attraction. They were friends, and that was what she had needed tonight.

She reached up her hand to accept his offered assistance. He pulled her up to a standing position and when she wobbled a little, his other hand came to her waist to steady her. It wasn’t very often she stood beside him without heels on, so she had to tilt her chin a little more than usual to look into his eyes.

They stared at each other for a couple minutes until she felt the exhaustion hit her once again and she felt herself fall…right into his arms.

“Miss Williams!”

She heard him call out in what couldn’t really be described as panic. He was obviously concerned if his furrowed brows told her anything, but there was also a glint in his eyes. Poor Dot was never going to forgive her for all the panic.

She felt him lift her up much like her vague recollection of the other night. “I’m sorry.” It was breathed into his neck as she breathed in his cologne. She was so tired.

“You don’t have anything to be sorry for, we’ve all had a rough couple of days.”

“Oh Miss!” Dot exclaimed as she rushed into the parlour.

“If you could show me where I can put her, Miss Williams?”

“You can put me right into bed and join me if you want. It must be awfully late.” She was pretty sure the seductive tone got through on that one, because she felt him chuckle and his Adam’s apple bob a little nervously.

“You won’t be doing anything but sleeping for quite a while, Miss Fisher.”

She wanted to take that as a challenge, but he was right. She couldn’t even keep her eyes open at this point.

His arms were perfect and maybe it was just the delirium, but she had never felt so safe. So at home.

___ Epilogue ___

_New Year’s Eve_

The festivities had long since ended, and the last remnants of the party had been cleared away by Mr. Butler and Dot. Shoes discarded on the floor. Wrap thrown over a chair. Another successful party at Wardlow concluded. Phryne was curled up in a chair in her parlour, eyes closed as she twirled an empty glass in her hands. Her thoughts drifted to Janey.

She suddenly realized that the heaviness that usually came with those memories was gone. She now had closure. She had grievedーwas still grieving. But the weight of the guilt was gone.

A smile crossed her face and she opened her eyes. She was going to be alright.

**Author's Note:**

> Though "Memories in my Head" was the first story I posted, most of the flashbacks in this story were the very first things that I wrote. I didn't expect it to develop into this story. But with the Whumptober challenge, I decided to see what I could really do with it. 
> 
> This episode had such an impact on me when I was watching it the first time. I remember sitting on the edge of my seat as season 1 came to a close. At that point, I knew there was no going back. I was hooked to this show!
> 
> The title is from a Patty Loveless song "How Can I Help You Say Goodbye"


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